


How to Summon a Demon

by LadyMango



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Takes Care of Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale to the Rescue (Good Omens), Demon Summoning, Demonology Book, First Time, Hurt Crowley (Good Omens), Hurt/Comfort, It's all fun and games until it isn't, Love Confessions, M/M, Scared Crowley (Good Omens), captured crowley, wish granting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:27:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23342431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyMango/pseuds/LadyMango
Summary: Some humans perform a summoning ritual and capture Crowley. He's quite enjoying himself until things start to get a bit dangerous.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 54
Kudos: 474





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have the entire fic written out already, I'm just gonna give each chapter a last read through before I post them. :)

***

It was an ordinary Sunday afternoon and Crowley had spent the day lounging on his sofa in his favourite black pyjamas - with stylish red detailing - watching a particularly good detective series he had found on Netflix. 

He sat forward as the detective gathered all of the suspects together in a room. His eyes went wide in excited anticipation as the detective’s voice boomed: “The murderer is-!”

Crowley was on the edge of his seat, and then he wasn't. 

There was a disorienting jolt, his vision blurred and when he was able to see again he was no longer in his living room but in the empty office of what he would later learn was an abandoned warehouse. 

Without a sofa to support him, he dropped inelegantly to the ground with a surprised yelp. 

Scrambling to his knees, he looked around. He was dismayed but not surprised to find himself in the centre of a pentagram with a painted circle surrounding it, the pattern drawn crudely on the concrete floor with black paint. The circle was glowing faintly red.

Well, at least it wasn't painted in pig’s blood like last time. 

Crowley had been in this situation more times than he would care to admit. 

For centuries, there had been a collection of extremely rare demonology books circulating out in the world that explained how to perform summoning magic that teleported and trapped whichever demon was nearest to the summoner. Seeing as Crowley was usually the only demon on Earth and Hell was a much greater distance away than anywhere on the mortal plane, it was typically him that got summoned. Crowley thought he had managed to destroy all of those books and felt angry and frustrated that he clearly hadn’t. 

Sometimes the summoners were Satanists, witches, or members of a cult, all wanting him to use his occult powers to grant them riches beyond their wildest dreams, but usually it was just people doing it for a laugh and they didn’t think the spell would actually work. Those people were so shocked by his sudden appearance that they would run away in a panic, then all Crowley had to do was wait for all of the candles around the circle to burn down, breaking the spell, and he would be free to saunter off, taking the demonology book with him which he could then destroy. 

This seemed the most likely outcome today, considering the two humans in the room with him were both young children.

Normally when he was summoned he would do everything in his power to terrify and scare off those that had summoned him, but these were just two kids and he didn't want to traumatise them. 

"Hi," Crowley said with a wry smile, expecting them to run away.

The two children, both girls, shrank back and huddled together. One of them let out a squeaky yelp whilst the other just stared at the demon before her in wide-eyed horror. The colour had drained from their faces. One of the girls looked a couple of years older than the other, but neither of them looked a day over ten years old. Crowley took pity on them.

“Don’t worry. I won’t hurt you.”

The older of the two spoke up, her voice shaking. “You’re not allowed to hurt us anyway! The book said so!” She held up the book. 

Crowley nodded. “Yes, you’re right.” 

Crowley stared at the book, reading the title on it. Now he understood. He had not failed to destroy the original books, this was a copy, written in English if the title were anything to go by. It should really have occurred to him by now that humans might decide to make copies. Bugger.

“Are you truly a real-life demon?” The youngest child asked quietly. 

The older kid cut in before Crowley had a chance to reply. “He doesn’t actually look like a demon. Maybe we did it wrong.”

“And he’s wearing his jammies!” 

The older child crossed her arms. “I don’t think you’re a demon at all. I think you’re just a normal person.”

Crowley raised an eyebrow. He moved to kneel at the edge of the circle closest to the kids. “Do normal people have eyes like this?”

“Kitty eyes!” said the youngest excitedly.

“I have serpent eyes, not cat eyes. I’m a serpent-demon.”

The older kid leant across to her friend. “A serpent is a sort of snake.”

“I know that!” 

“And I have a serpent tongue.” Crowley flicked out his forked tongue. One child recoiled, the other made an awed sound. 

“Mr Demon? What’s your name?” asked the youngest child.

“Crowley.”

“I’m Lilly, and this is H-”

“Don’t tell him our names, you idiot!”

“I’m not an idiot,” Lilly argued. 

Crowley wondered which girls names began with the letter H. “Heidi, Helen, Hannah, Holly. Er… Heather. You look like a Heather.”

“I won’t tell you, even if you get it right.”

“I’ll just call you Heather then.” 

“Whatever. Why are you named Crowley anyway? It’s not a very evil name. You should be called Killer or Nightmare or something cool like that.” She stopped and looked him up and down, thoroughly unimpressed. “You don’t look very evil at all actually. I expected you be more demonic. I thought you’d be big and red with horns and wings and stuff. That would’ve been awesome.”

“That’s more Satan’s look. I do have wings though.”

Crowley tried to wish his wings into appearing but it didn’t work. Of course not. He needed permission from one of his summoners now to perform any magic. 

“Show us then,” demanded the girl that he had named Heather.

That was apparently permission enough because he found himself suddenly able to unfurl his wings. He flapped them a couple of times for dramatic effect, the tips of black feathers brushing against the invisible barrier that contained him within the circle.

The girls staggered backwards.

“Wow,” gasped Lilly, “you have feathers like a raven!”

“Or… like a…”

“A crow! Ah! That’s why you’re called Crowley! Nice!”

Crowley was feeling very impressive, up until the moment that Heather spoke. 

“You’re supposed to have bat wings, like a proper demon.” Heather gave a disappointed sigh. “Well, I suppose you’ll have to do. Now, you need to grant our wishes.” 

Crowley was about to point out that he was not a bloody genie, but he’d just seen the remake of Aladdin and had rather enjoyed it. They were just children after all, so he could humour them for a little while. “Okay. You get three wishes each.”

“Three? No we don’t! The book says we can make as many wishes as we like until the candles burn down.”

“You lied,” Lilly said gravely. 

“Well, I am a demon after all.” 

Heather looked thoughtful. “I wish for one hundred pounds!”

“I wish for two hundred!” Lilly cried.

“Wait, I want two hundred pounds as well!”

Crowley waved a hand dramatically and a few twenty pound notes fluttered down from the ceiling above each of the children. The girls squealed in delight, grabbing at the cash.

Heather stuffed the money into her bag and then pulled out a page of lined paper that had been folded in half. “I made a list of wishes!”

“Me too.” Lilly said as she skipped over to Crowley and carefully pushed her own folded up piece of paper into the circle for him to take, careful not to put her fingers through the invisible barrier.

Crowley read Lilly’s list. At the top of the page it said, ‘Dear Demon,’ and then it went on to list the toys, books, and sweets that she wanted. 

Heather folded up her own list a few more times then threw it into the circle at Crowley’s feet.

“I feel like Father Christmas,” Crowley murmured to himself as he picked up the paper, then he started miracling things into existence. 

Heather got very excited over a Nintendo Switch games console and wished for a television to hook it up to and another controller. She turned to Lilly. “Let’s play MarioKart!”

“Yeah!”

“Oh no,” Heather said, “I can’t plug the TV in. I can’t find any sockets.”

“Oh, you don’t need to plug it in,” said Crowley, who had never plugged in an electrical device in his life. “It’ll just work by itself, as if by magic.” 

Lilly grinned at Crowley. “I want you to play Mariokart with us too!”

“He can’t play with us. He’s a demon.”

Lilly looked dangerously close to tears. “But I want Crowley to play too!”

“Ugh. Fine. Whatever. Crowley, wish up another controller. I suppose you can play too for a little while.”

Lilly tore open a bar of chocolate which Crowley had miracle up for her. She hesitated and looked at Heather. She lowered her voice. “What if he poisoned it?”

“He’s not allowed. He can’t do anything if we don’t ask him to, and he’s not allowed to hurt us. It’s part of the spell.”

Lilly immediately devoured the chocolate.

They played video games for a few hours and Crowley found he enjoyed himself once he got the hang of the controls.

Lilly put down her controller for a moment to shift how she was sitting on the floor. She put out an arm behind her and then let out a scream. She sat up straight and hugged her hand, crying hysterically. 

Heather moved to sit beside her. “What’s wrong? What happened- eww! Your hand is bleeding!” 

“It- It hurts!” Lilly whimpered. She looked behind her. “There’s a nail on the floor!”

Heather leapt up and kicked the offending nail to the far wall, then turned to Crowley. “Demon, I wish for a plaster for Lilly’s hand, quick!” 

“Sure.” Crowley craned his neck, trying to see how bad the injury was. “It’s alright, Lilly, let me have a look.”

She moved over to him where he sat in the circle, and reached out her hand, palm up. Crowley saw a little, red cut in the centre.

“Don’t get too close to him!” Heather warned, running to stand beside her friend. “And don’t put your hand in the circle or he’ll get you!” 

Lilly nodded. “I won’t.”

“Magic up a plaster already,” Heather said impatiently.

“How about you ask me to heal it instead.” 

“Demons can heal people?” Heather asked, amazed.

“Yep.”

“Please heal my hand, Mr Crowley.”

“Hold your hand a little closer to the barrier. That’s it.”

Still sat on the floor, Crowley held up his hand close to Lilly’s, only the faint red glow of the barrier between them. He could see Heather watching him, suspicion in her eyes. Lilly smiled at him innocently. 

The injury vanished, the skin healing as they watched.

Lilly grinned, inspecting her hand. “Wow, that was really cool! Thanks Crowley!”

“Yeah, well done, demon.” 

“No problem.”

“Oh no!” Heather said worriedly whilst looking at her watch, “It’s almost six o’clock! We’ve got to get home!”

“It’s dinner time!” Lilly shouted, jumping to her feet. 

They started packing away their new things into their bags. Crowley put down his controller whilst Heather packed away the Switch. He looked at the candles. If he waited for them to burn out, he would be stuck here for hours all on his own. 

“I’d really appreciate it if you could blow out those candles so I’ll be sent back home.” 

Heather’s eyes went wide. “No! I’ve read the book! If we blow out the candles it will break the spell, but you won’t be sent back home at all! You’ll just be able to step out of the circle and come get us! The book warns us to keep the candles lit! You must think I’m stupid!”

Crowley had hoped that they would free him so that he could take the book away from them and destroy it. He wanted to make sure that these children never ran the risk of summoning another demon, someone who might manipulate and hurt them. If he could get them to break this spell, then he would be able to use his powers once again and hypnotise the children so that they would never do something this stupid again. He could also hypnotise them into telling him where they got the book in the first place.

“I won’t hurt you, I just want to go home. I’ll be stuck here in this circle for hours otherwise, and- Hey! What are you- no!”

There was a cardboard box in the corner of the room and Heather had just unpacked several very tall candles from it and was now placing them around the circle. She started lighting them.

“Nononono! Stop that!”

“No! We are coming back in the morning so we need you to stay here. We have lots of wishes to make.”

“Just summon me again in the morning then, don’t trap me here all night! Stop lighting those candles!”

“This is easier, and it stops you from doing lots of evil stuff in the meantime.” 

“I was literally just going to stay up all night watching Netflix.”

Heather ignored him. He gave Lilly a pleading look but she just shook her head. It occurred to him that if they kept adding more candles, they could keep him here indefinitely. 

“Guys, listen. If I’m away too long the other demons will come looking for me, and believe me, you do not want to meet them. It’s very dangerous for you to keep me here.” 

Crowley had slept for an entire century once and his people hadn’t even noticed. They wouldn’t notice his absence now unless they really wanted him for something and he highly doubted that. The only one that would notice his absence was Aziraphale. 

“The book says the spell hides your presence here. They can’t find you.”

“They will notice the spike in magic in the area though!” 

“He’s lying,” Heather said to Lilly. “Demons lie all the time, especially this one.” 

“I’m not lying. And anyway, don’t you have school in the morning or something?”

“It’s the school holidays.”

Crowley rolled his eyes. “Well, at least allow me to teleport my laptop here so I don’t die of boredom.”

“No. You’ll just email your demon buddies!”

Crowley raised his hands up into the air in frustration. “The other demons don’t even know what E-mail is! What, do you think I’m Crowley-at-Hell-dot-com?”

“You can have a book.”

Lilly’s face lit up. She dug into her bag and grabbed a box-set of books that Crowley had wished up for her. She pushed them into the circle. “You can read mine!”

Crowley picked up one of the books and pulled a face. “Harry Potter? I don’t want to read a kid’s book.”

“They’re not just for kids! Grown-ups read them too,” said Lilly.

“Yeah! My parents like the books so much they named me aft-” Heather stopped talking.

“Oh! Oh, I see! So your name is in one of these books, is it?” Crowley teased relentlessly. He started flicking through the first novel. 

“Give them back!” Heather cried.

“Nope. I don’t have to do everything you say.”

“Uh, fine. You’ll never figure out what my name is anyway.” 

Crowley grinned. “Is it Hermione?”

“No.”

“But you wouldn’t tell me even if I did get it right, would you?”

“Yeah, but I swear it’s not Hermione.”

Lilly tilted her head. “Why do you even care if he knows your name? Do you think he might come after us when we eventually let him go?” 

Heather looked grave. “Names have power. They’re magical.”

“They are?” Lilly worried at her lower lip. 

Crowley felt bad for her. “Don’t worry, there’s nothing magical about names, no one can use them against you. And it’s not like I can search for you the human way with only your first name anyway.” He turned to Heather, or whatever her name was. “So don’t worry, Hermione.”

Heather smirked. “It’s not Hermione.”

Crowley wasn’t sure if she was telling the truth or just really good at bluffing. He pushed the books to one side. “I don’t wanna read kid’s books anyway. Guess I’ll just sleep until tomorrow. Can I at least have a blanket?”

Lilly threw a large and vibrant, hot-pink blanket at him. “You can have the one you magicked up for me. It won’t fit in my bag anyway so I was already going to leave it behind for now.” 

Heather laughed at him as he wrapped the blanket around his shoulders. At first he thought she was amused by how he was struggling to arrange it with his wings in the way, but then she said, “you look silly in that.”

“Why? Because it’s pink? It does rather clash with my hair.”

“Pink is for girls.”

“It’s funny, you know, it used to be the other way around. Pink was for boys because it’s a strong colour, and blue was for girls because it’s more gentle and calm.”

Heather eyed him wearily. “I think you’re lying again.”

“Can I have some food? I can use my magic to make some appear if you’ll let me.”

“No. Stop asking for stuff. The book said demons don’t need to eat.”

“Well, this demon likes eating.”

“I don’t care.”

“Maybe he can have a little bit-” Lilly tried.

“No! He’s just a demon, He doesn’t need food. He’s just being cheeky.” Heather lifted her bag onto her shoulder and went towards the door, “Come on, Lilly. Let’s go.”

“Wait a minute. Mr Crowley? Can you make a scarf for me please?” Lilly asked.

Heather came towards Crowley. “I want a scarf too, one that looks like a fox.”

Crowley considered refusing - he was still angry that they were leaving him here all night - but he had become fond of Lilly and decided to humour them both. 

“What would you like your scarf to look like,” he asked Lilly after having made the fox scarf for Heather with a click of his fingers. 

“A dragon.”

Crowley saw an opportunity here. He clicked his fingers and a scarf appeared around her neck. 

“Looks more like a snake with wings,” Heather scoffed. 

“I like it,” Lilly said with a smile.

The scarf was shaped like a snake and was the same colour and pattern as his serpent form, the wings reminiscent of his own. It was a long shot, but he hoped Aziraphale might somehow see the girl in the scarf and realise Crowley had sent him a clue to his whereabouts. It was worth a try.

Heather walked away towards the door. “Goodbye, demon. See you in the morning.” 

“Bye Crowley. Sweet dreams,” said Lilly. 

As Lilly left, she handed Crowley a bar of chocolate while Heather wasn’t looking. Crowley smiled. 

“Good night, kids.” 

They closed the door, and Crowley laid down on the floor with a heavy, miserable sigh. It was going to be a long night.

***


	2. Chapter 2

***

"Good morning, Mr Crowley."

Crowley reluctantly tore his gaze away from the book he was reading.

"Oh. Hi girls. What time is it?" He had only realised after the children had left that he was not wearing a watch and he couldn't magic one up.

"About 11am," Heather said.

Crowley realised that he had been reading Harry potter for about seventeen hours straight. 

Lilly walked up to the edge of the circle. "Oh no! You must have been in the dark all night long! I'm sorry! We should have left you a torch." 

"Nah. Demons can see in the dark, it’s okay."

"Cool! And you’ve been reading my books! Yay!"

Crowley turned his full attention to Heather. “Hello… Helga!” 

She looked confused. “Helga? There’s no one called Helga in the books.” 

“Yeah there is. Helga Hufflepuff! She was the founder of Hufflepuff House.”

“My name is definitely not Helga. And I’m in Griffindor, not Hufflepuff.”

"I would definitely be in Slytherin House," Crowley said confidently.

"You don't get to choose," Lilly said. "The sorting hat chooses."

"You'd probably be a Death Eater," Heather muttered under her breath.

"You need to do the quiz on the Pottermore website to find out which house you're in. We are both Griffindores. You should do the quiz too!"

Lilly pulled out her smart phone and tapped the screen for a few seconds to find the website. She started to pass him her phone, but then Heather leapt towards her, making her jump. 

"No! Don't give him your phone, you idiot! He'll call Satan or something!”

Crowley raised an eyebrow.

"Oh. Er. Okay." Lilly looked thoughtful, then she turned towards Crowley. "Mr demon, please magic up a tablet that only has access to the Pottermore website."

Heather nodded. "Yeah. That should be okay, he can only magic up what we say, after all."

Crowley created the tablet out of raw firmament and found that he was indeed bound by her rules. He could not wish up anything without her permission, no matter how he tried, and so the tablet was only able to reach that one website. 

Crowley did the test. He was so eager and excited, so convinced that he would be a Slytherin, that he forgot himself and rather than answering the questions how the human he pretended to be would answer them, or even how an evil demon would answer them, he answered them truthfully. 

"Huffle-fricking-puff!" Crowley cried. He hissed angrily at the tablet then threw it out of the circle. "Fuck off!" 

"That's a bad word," Lilly said quietly.

"Yeah, well… I am bad! I'm a demon! And I'm not a Hufflepuff! I don't care what that stupid website says!"

"Well, anyway..." Heather said, giving Crowley a disapproving look, "I've got loads more wishes."

"Fine, whatever," Crowley said grumpily. He went to close the book he had been reading, but hesitated. He turned over the corner of the page carefully.

"Wow!" said Lilly. "You're on Prisoner of Azkaban already?! You’ve almost finished the third book!"

Heather piped up. "So, I want some more games for the switch, I need-"

"Who is your favourite character? Mine is Luna."

"Shh! I'm trying to make a wish, so stop interrupting!"

Crowley waved a hand dismissively. "Listen, just wish for all of the games in the online-store to be free, and you'll be all set."

"Great idea! I wish for all the games to be free!"

Crowley waved a hand lazily. "There you go, kid." He returned his full attention to Lilly. "My favourite characters are Sirius and Lupin."

Lilly looked sad. "Oh, but they-"

"Crowley, magic up some McDonalds, I'm hungry!" Heather said, not looking up from the games console in her hands. "A cheese burger and fries with a strawberry milkshake."

Lilly smiled. "I want chicken nuggets and fries and a Coca-Cola! Please, Mr Crowley. And you can magic up some food and drink for yourself too if you want."

Crowley snapped his fingers and some McDonald's meals appeared for the children, and then he conjured up something worthy of the Ritz for himself. 

"Lilly, what were you about to say about Sirius and Lupin?"

"Nevermind. Spoilers," Lilly said before stuffing her face with french fries. 

Lilly glanced at Heather, who was still engrossed in her Switch, then she looked at the big television which was currently not in use. She grinned. "Let’s watch a film! The Philosopher's Stone! We can watch all the Harry Potter films that you have read the books for so far, Crowley!"

Crowley was 100% up for this. 

They were half way through the second film when Heather, who had only been half-watching the television while playing her games, got up and walked over to the cardboard box. 

Crowley caught sight of her just as she was pulling out several giant candles.

"Woah, woah, woah! No! What are you doing?! There's at least another couple of hours left on the candles already there, you don't need to add any more!"

"Yes, I do."

"Put them away! I am not staying here overnight again. I've humoured you long enough. You can both leave a little while before the current candles burn down, because I need to go home. "

Heather jutted out her chin. "It's not up to you. You're going to stay here for as long as I say."

“My patience is really wearing thin. If you light any more candles, then I won’t do any more wishes for you. No more magic.”

“You can’t do that!” Heather gasped.

“Yes, I can.”

Heather hesitated but then a determined look appeared on her face and she marched towards the circle, carrying six candles in her arms. “I’ll keep lighting candles anyway.” 

Crowley glared at her. “I won’t do any magic for you then. I’ll just ignore you like you’re not even here.”

“Then we won’t let you do any magic either. No more food! Or- or new books!”

“I’ll just read these seven until the pages fall out.”

Lilly made a sad sound. “But I don’t want you to go away, Crowley!”

“You can summon me back again another day,” Crowley said, fully intending to join forces with Aziraphale in the meantime to hunt for the children and the book. 

“No!” Heather said. “We are in charge, demon. Not you!” 

Heather added several more candles to the circle and then lit them.

“Now then,” said Heather, “I want an Oreo Mcflurry!” 

There was an awkward silence in which Crowley and Heather glared angrily at each other. The silence was broken by the sound of Lilly drinking noisily through a straw. 

Heather put her hands on her hips. “Do it, demon, or else! I want a Mcflurry!”

“Can I have one too?” Lilly asked hopefully.

“I’m not doing any more wishes for either of you. I said not to light any more candles, and now you have to face the consequences.”

Lilly bit her lip. “Maybe we could blow out some of the candles, if Crowley agrees to-”

“No!” Heather cried. “He has to do what we say! And the book says what to do if he doesn’t obey us or if he’s bad!”

Heather stormed over to the cardboard box and started rooting about through the candles until she pulled out a large, plastic Pepsi bottle, but the liquid inside was clear and definitely not Pepsi.

Crowley’s eyes went wide. His throat tightened. “What is that?” 

“Holy water,” Heather said with a smirk. “I told the church I needed it to stop evil demons and they gave me loads.”

Crowley hoped desperately that they had just humoured her and given her normal water, but when she took the lid off, he could smell it. 

He backed up to the far side of the circle, as far away from Heather as he could get. He pulled his wings in close, trying to flatten himself against the invisible wall. 

“Don’t! It’ll kill me!” 

“It says to just flick a little bit at you, then you’ll behave,” Heather said, carefully pouring a little bit of the holy water into a small, plastic cup.

“Don’t! I’ll die-!” 

Heather stepped towards the circle, dipped the tip of her index finger into the cup, and then flicked it at Crowley, who stood, frozen in horror, helpless, on the far side of the circle. 

Only two small droplets soared into the circle. One landed on his wing and the other his forearm, soaking through the material of his pyjama sleeve as though actively seeking out the demon beneath. 

Searing, blinding pain shot out from both of these points, devastating his physical body and bleeding through into his demonic form underneath. 

Crowley had felt pain before, but nothing like this. Earthly pain he could control to a degree, lessen it with his occult powers, even fix an injury with a thought if he were fast enough before discorperating. But even if he had full control over his magic right now, he would not have been able to stop this.

A long time ago, he had felt something similar, and he flashed back to when he had fallen. He could remember the fire and the brimstone surrounding him as his divinity burned away. It had been agony, but the worst of it had been that he hadn’t known what was happening to him, hadn’t known if he would survive it or how much of him would be left if he did. He had felt himself changing, and all around him he could see the other fallen angels through his tears, their wings blackening, their bodies mutating, and he didn’t understand why God, who he thought loved them all unconditionally, was doing this to them, was doing this to him. 

The pain engulfed him, and Crowley screamed and screamed, flailing and colliding with the invisible barriers. He felt sure he was going to die. 

He collapsed to the ground and lost consciousness. 

***

Crowley was awoken by arguing voices. His head was pounding and everything hurt. 

“You killed him! You killed him!” Lilly screamed.

Heather’s voice was angry, but with a hint of remorse. “No, I didn’t! The book said it would only hurt him a little bit! He’s probably fine! I bet he’s just trying to scare us into running away. I bet he’s faking!”

“No, he’s not! Look at him! Look what you did to him!”

“I didn’t know it would do that! And it’s not like you tried to stop me or anything! The book said-”

“I don’t care about the stupid book!”

“He’s just a demon anyway! He’s not a real person!”

“He is real!” Lilly sobbed.

“He’s evil!” 

“He’s a Hufflepuff!” 

“I bet he answered the questions wrong on purpose to lull you into a false sense of security!”

Crowley opened his eyes. Everything felt too bright. He winced. “Shhh.” 

“You’re alive!” Lilly cried.

“Ssshhhhhh,” he hissed desperately, his head spinning. 

“Are you okay? How are you feeling?” Lilly whispered.

“I’ve felt better.” 

Crowley tried to sit up but he quickly changed his mind. He lay back down on his side. 

He assessed the situation. He had ripped his pyjama shirt off at some point, probably to get the holy water splash on his sleeve away from his skin. He had ripped out several feathers, probably again because that was where a droplet of holy water had fallen. There was a wound on his wing and one on his arm, the skin around the injuries had turned black, raw and blistered. The same thing had happened to his fingertips, probably from where he had grabbed at the contaminated feathers and his shirt. Glancing around, he saw some feathers and his shirt strewn just outside of the circle. He looked for any more water droplets that might have fallen nearby but he saw nothing. If there had been any more drops, he was sure he would have known about it while he had been thrashing about wildly. He pulled his blanket around himself, feeling cold. 

“See? I told you he would be okay,” Heather said, sounding relieved.

“He doesn’t look very well.”

“He’s fine,” Heather snapped. “Crowley? Can I have my Mcflurry now, please?”

Crowley was too upset to argue. “Okay.” 

“I don’t want one anymore,” Lilly said, her voice quiet. 

Crowley didn’t do a dramatic hand sweep like he usually did. He just blinked and wished for a Mcflurry. Nothing happened. He tried it again, but still nothing happened. He started to panic.

“Crowley?” Heather said, her voice full of frustration. “You must have learnt your lesson by now? You have to do what we say.”

“I- I’m trying…” Crowley focused all of his attention on the wish. Nothing happened. “It’s not working.” He had never been unable to use his powers before and it terrified him.

“You’re lying,” Heather said. “Try again.”

“I- I- I’m not lying.” Crowley tried it again but his magic refused to work. He sat up, his head spinning. Tears prickled at the corners of his eyes. He tried it one more time but it wouldn’t work. “I- I can’t do it. I don’t understand-”

He was scared of what Heather would do if she decided he was lying, scared she would hurt him again. 

“I don’t think he can do it,” Lilly said. “He doesn’t look very well. I think you broke his magic.” 

“But the book said to do it…”

Lilly ignored her. “Crowley, try to heal yourself.”

Crowley held up a trembling hand over his injured wing and tried with all of his might to heal himself but his powers still refused to work.

“I can’t…” he said, voice shaking. 

Crowley had never been injured by holy water before and he didn’t know of any demons that had survived coming into contact with it. He didn’t know if his powers would ever come back. He felt weak and defenceless. 

“Well, let’s try it again later,” Lilly said gently. “You probably just need some time to recover.” 

Heather was eyeing Crowley with suspicion. “Who is Aziraphale?”

Crowley froze, caught completely off guard by the question. He stared at her. “How do you know about him?” A flicker of hope flared. Aziraphale must be looking for him, he must be hot on the trail of the kids. Maybe he had seen the serpent scarf.

“Never you mind how we know about him. Who is he? Tell us the truth or else.”

“He- he’s my friend.” 

“Is he a demon too?”

“No.”

“What is he then?”

Crowley hesitated. He was scared of what Heather would do if she thought he was lying, but if he told them the truth, that Aziraphale was an angel, they might not believe him anyway. He could lie and say that Aziraphale was a human or a witch, but he didn’t know how much the children already knew and he did not want to get caught in a lie. He had learnt how dangerous Heather could be when she was angry. 

“He’s an angel.”

“Wow!” said Lilly excitedly, “A real angel?! With a halo and everything?”

“An angel?” Heather asked doubtfully, “You’re telling us that you’re friends with an actual angel?”

“…It’s complicated.”

“Why would an angel help you anyway? You’re a demon.”

“He’s a helpful sort of guy.”

“How did you even meet him when demons live in Hell and angels live in Heaven? They must be miles and miles apart.”

“We both live on Earth actually. He lives in a bookshop in Soho. It’s called A Z Fells.” He looked directly at Lilly as he said this, hoping that she might want to find someone to help him. 

Whilst Heather did seem to feel bad for hurting him, Crowley was sure that she saw him as being less than human. 

Lilly was the closest thing he had to an ally right now, as far as he was aware.

He hoped that Aziraphale was on his way to save him. Perhaps he was just outside. Perhaps this nightmare was almost over. “How do you know about Aziraphale?”

“When you were yelling and thrashing about in the circle because of the holy water, you shouted for him,” Heather said.

“Yeah, added Lilly, “You shouted, ‘Help me! Aziraphale, help!’ We wondered who he was.”

“Oh…” Crowley felt his hope crumble away. “I didn’t know I said that.” 

Crowley felt dizzy and tired, he wanted to go home. Sitting in the middle of the circle, he wrapped his arms around his knees.

“Angels are real then? Is Gabriel real?” Lilly asked.

Crowley was feeling faint. It was difficult to keep his eyes open and he really wanted to lay down and go to sleep. He started to sway, but in that moment it felt important to reply to Lilly. “Gabriel… is an arsehole.”

Crowley fell over.

Laying on his side, eyes closed, Crowley decided it would be nice to fall asleep. He gave it his very best, but the children were being thoughtlessly loud.

“Get up, Crowley! Please!” Heather cried.

“Crowley! Wake up!” Lilly shouted, then her voice became scared. “What if he really is dead this time?”

Crowley wanted to tell her that he was fine, he just really needed a good nap, but it felt as though moving or speaking would take up an impossible amount of energy. 

“Wake up, Crowley-” Heather made a terrified noise. “Lilly, no! Get out of there! He’ll get you!”

A small hand pushed at Crowley’s shoulder.

“He can’t get me, he’s too hurt! You saw to that!”

“Get out of the circle, you idiot!” Heather cried hysterically. 

“This is your fault! He was nice, and now he’s dying!”

“Get out of the circle, for God’s sake! He might kill you! And he’s not nice, he’s a demon!”

“That’s racist!”

Crowley opened bleary eyes and saw Lilly stepping back out of the circle.

“He isn’t well, we have to let him out of the circle so he can go back to Hell and get help from the other demons. Or maybe we should take him to a hospital.”

“Are you stupid?! We can’t take him to a hospital, the doctors can’t heal demons! And we are not going to let him out of that circle! This might all be a clever trap! No! Stop that!”

Lilly had started blowing out the candles. “We have to let him go!”

Heather grabbed her and pulled her away from the circle. 

“Let me go!” Lilly started to slap her, and suddenly they were both hitting each other.

Normally, Crowley encouraged this sort of thing, but it was counterproductive under the circumstances. 

“Girls, calm down,” he demanded hoarsely, but his voice was drowned out by the sound of their shouting. 

“You’re a stupid little girl!” Heather screamed.

“You’re the stupid one! Ow! And you’re a bitch!”

Heather gasped, outraged. “Shut up! I hate you! We are not friends anymore! Go away!” 

“I hate you more!”

Heather pushed her towards the door. “Get lost!”

“B- but, I don’t want to leave Crowley behind-”

“He’s mine. I found the book, and this was all my idea. You’re not allowed to play anymore! Get lost!”

Lilly burst into tears and fled the room. 

“Come back,” Crowley cried, watching as the only one who seemed concerned about his welfare vanished. He turned to Heather. “Go after her.”

Heather slammed the door closed and turned furious eyes on him. Tears streamed down her face. “Shut up! This is all your fault, you horrible demon! I bet you were trying to make us fight all along. I bet just having you around makes people act bad, so shut up before I dump that entire bottle of holy water right on your head!”

Crowley hoped it was just a hollow threat, but he wouldn’t dare take the risk. He went silent and curled up into a ball. He watched her wearily as she sat down cross-legged and picked up the Switch. For a while the only sounds were the clicking of the console’s buttons and the occasional sniff from the girl. 

Crowley closed his eyes but he couldn’t sleep, he was too frightened and the floor felt cold and hard. His head pounded and his injuries ached.

He became aware that Heather was crying.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” Heather said miserably.

Crowley opened his eyes. 

Heather put down the console and hesitantly came towards him. “Do you feel any better? I’m sorry about the holy water, I promise I won’t do it again. Try to heal yourself.” 

He tried, but he still couldn’t use his powers. “Not working,” he said weakly.

“I’m really really sorry I hurt you, I didn’t know it would do that. The book should have said. In fact, I should have just let you go home like you wanted.”

Heather took out her mobile phone from her pocket. “I’m gonna ring Lilly.” A few moments later she made a frustrated sound. “I’ve not got any phone signal. I’ll go and find her.” 

Heather came over to the circle and blew out half of the candles, the tallest ones. “There. The others should burn down soon, then you can escape, and I’ll still have plenty of time to get away. Do you think you will be okay?”

“I think so. But could you ring Aziraphale to come get me? I don’t know how I’ll get home without my powers working.” 

Heather gave him a suspicious look. She looked torn, but eventually she nodded. “Alright, I suppose – just because you’re not very well. You must be really good friends if you want an angel to save you instead of a demon. But you’d better not give me a demon’s phone number instead - I’ll be cross if you do! I’ll ring your angel’s bookshop, okay?”

Crowley knew Aziraphale’s phone number by heart and recited it to her. Heather typed it into her phone and then eyed him with distrust. “I can’t help but think this is all a trap. Is this guy gonna trace the call and pinpoint my location or something? Why are you laughing?”

“It’s just the thought of Aziraphale having the know-how to trace anyone’s phone call - he’s the least tech savvy person in the world.” Although, in truth, Crowley hoped the angel would use his divine powers to somehow figure out exactly where they were.

“Hmm. Yeah, well, I’ll use a payphone just in case, then I can run away super-fast. I wouldn’t be surprised if Aziraphale isn’t actually an angel at all.”

Heather packed her bag, and Lilly’s too. She was just picking them both up when there was the sound of a door opening somewhere else in the building. Heather froze. “Lilly?” She said hopefully, but her voice was quiet enough to betray her nervousness.

“Hello? Crowley? Are you here?” 

She spun to face Crowley. “Is that Aziraphale? How did he know you were here?”

Panic flared in Crowley’s chest. “That’s not Aziraphale - that’s a demon. You need to get out of here. Now!”

He recognised the demons voice. It was Hastur, one of the most horrible and vicious people he had ever met.

“B- but-”

“Get out! He mustn’t find you here!” Crowley looked around, but the only door out of the room led to the corridor where the voice was coming from, and the window was too high up for her to be able to reach it. She was trapped here. If Crowley had his powers, he would just wish her away somewhere safe, but he was as helpless as Heather was right now. 

He desperately tried to think of another way to save her. “Let me out! I’ll go and meet him then he won’t need to come in here.” Crowley got to his knees, and tried to get to his feet, hoping that he would be able to walk away without collapsing. “Blow out the candles.”

She looked at the candles, then her gaze lifted to Crowley’s face and she looked petrified. “I can’t! You’ll get me!”

“We don’t have time for this, you need to trust me! He’s a bad demon, really bad!”

“You’ll get me if I let you out!” she cried. 

“I won’t. He will!”

“How did he find us? You must have let him know you were here somehow! This is all a trap!”

Crowley hissed in frustration. “I don’t know how he found me – maybe the spike in magic like I said. It doesn’t matter!”

“Crowley? Where are you, you pain in the arse?” The voice was close now.

“Grab the holy water, quick!”

“I don’t want to hurt anyone!”

“You have to defend yourself! He’s dangerous!”

Crowley knew that he would not be able to protect Heather. Nothing he said would be enough to stop Hastur from doing whatever he wanted.

Shaking, Heather went to fetch the cup of holy water and the pepsi bottle. She stood far away from the door and put the bottle down next to her feet. She held the cup tightly in one hand, and hovered her other hand over it.

The door opened.

Hastur stepped through the doorway. He caught sight of Crowley first, on his knees in the circle. 

“What the fuck happened to you? You look like death warmed up. Ligur! He’s here!”

Then Hastur saw Heather, and his face split into a horrible grin. “Oh! Hello, little girl! Been playing at summoning demons, have you? How about we play a little game of our own- Woah! Fuck!”

Heather dipped her hand in the holy water and stepped forward. “I’m more than just a little girl, I’m tough! Go away or I’ll splash you with holy water! I’ve done it before, I’m not scared!”

Hastur could have done any number of things. He could have shrunk down, moved faster than the human eye could see and come up behind her to attack. He could have wished up a gun, or used his powers to push her backwards or even set her feet on fire. Absolutely anything. The only limits were his own imagination, which unfortunately for him were extremely limited.

Hastur yelped, staggered backwards, and once he was on the other side of the doorway, he slammed the door closed with a wish. There was the sound of retreating footsteps.

Heather was panting and shaking. 

“Well done,” Crowley said, “you were very brave.”

“I know,” she sobbed, “but what if he comes back?”

“He won’t,” Crowley said, and he was sure of it. “You’ve got him scared. And Hastur and Ligur wouldn’t risk their lives for anyone, least of all me.”

Crowley also knew that the two demons would never give up, they would just come up with another plan, something that would keep themselves safe while placing Heather, and perhaps even Crowley himself, in terrible danger. 

***


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all of the comments, I appreciate every one of them! It was fun to see the guesses for Heather's name!

***

The phone rang and Aziraphale answered it with enthusiasm. He'd been expecting a phone call from a rare book dealer. 

"Hello? A. Z. Fell and co., Booksellers. How can I be of assistance?"

"Oh, er, hi. Is that... Mr Easyfell? Easyfall?"

"Aziraphale," he corrected dryly. This was certainly not his rare book dealer, in fact, it sounded like a child. "Who is speaking?"

"Er, sorry! I'm Lilly. You don't know me, but I need to talk to you real urgent!"

He had been considering hanging up but the girl sounded distressed, and it wouldn't do for an angel to ignore someone in need.

"Are you alright, my dear? What's the matter?"

She sniffled. "Are you Mr Crowley's friend? He said you were. I suppose you must have noticed that he's been missing for a couple of days."

Aziraphale would be ashamed to admit that no, he had not noticed, and he probably wouldn't have noticed until Crowley failed to pick him up on Saturday when they were supposed to go to the Ritz. His chest tightened. "What happened?"

"It wasn’t my fault, I swear! She did it, and I'm not friends with her anymore! We summoned a demon - Crowley - and she splashed holy water at him! I couldn't stop her!"

"I- I- holy-?" 

It felt as though the world were crumbling away beneath him. Aziraphale grabbed at the edge of the desk, dizzy with shock and horror. This couldn't be real, he couldn't stand it. Tears sprang to his eyes. Not Crowley, not his precious Crowley.

"And so Crowley isn't feeling very well, but she won't let him out of the circle. I think he needs to go to a demon hospital. You have to help me rescue him!"

"H- he's still alive? Are you with him now?"

"She kicked me out! I'm just on the outskirts of the woods, I called you as soon as I had signal. And I found your phone number on Trip Advisor. You have terrible reviews on there, by the way. People say it's like you don't even want to sell the books-"

"I need to get to him fast," Aziraphale cried out. His hands were shaking. "H- How was he when you saw him last?"

Aziraphale had assumed that demons died immediately if they came into contact with any amount of holy water. He was shocked that Crowley had somehow managed to survive this, but he still feared that Crowley wouldn’t live much longer and was currently suffering a slow and painful death. 

Would he even be able to do anything for him when he got there other than offer him some comfort? He couldn't bear the thought of Crowley being frightened and all alone. He prayed that he would be able to heal him but he was terrified that Crowley would die while he watched helplessly.

"He keeps passing out, but he was still able to talk to us and move around and stuff."

That was a good sign, wasn’t it? If Crowley could speak and move? Perhaps things were not so awful after all, perhaps it hadn't even been holy water. He clung to hope.

Aziraphale tried to keep his voice level, but his composure was shot and his voice, when it came, sounded weak and distraught, even to his own ears. "I’m going to have to use my special powers to get to you. I'm going to travel through the phone, okay? Are you alone?"

"Yeah, it's just me and the trees."

Angels were not allowed to reveal their divine powers to humans without prior authorisation, but the girl already knew that demons were real, and, honestly, Aziraphale didn't care about the moral implications. All he cared about was helping Crowley.

"Keep speaking and I'll come to you - I'll follow your voice - I'm going to shrink down and then grow back to normal size. It may be a bit of a shock."

"It won't shock me. Crowley has done lots of magic. I'm used to it by now."

"I'm on my way, keep talking."

Aziraphale shrank down smaller than the eye could see, and jumped into the receiver of his 1940s Bakelite telephone. He zipped through the phoneline at incredible speeds, crossing miles in milliseconds. He reached a cell tower, and, chasing Lilly’s voice, he zoomed with the radio waves until he reached the mobile telephone clutched in her hands. She was shouting into the speakerphone, but dropped the gadget and yelped when Aziraphale materialised, full-size, on the grass before her.

Aziraphale felt disoriented for a moment and clung to a nearby tree. Looking around, he saw that they were indeed on the edge of a wood. He could hear the sound of nearby traffic.

Lilly took a few steps back, her eyes wide.

"It's alright, it's only me. Aziraphale. You must be Lilly, yes?"

Lilly nodded. "Are you really an angel?"

"I am, yes," Aziraphale said. He paused, noticing Lilly’s knitted scarf which looked remarkably like Crowley’s serpent form with his wings. "Please, I must get to Crowley, where is he?" 

She pointed. "That way. It's about a ten minute walk."

"Right, come on, show me the way." 

Aziraphale grabbed the girls hand and they started marching, Lilly had to run to keep up with his fast steps. 

"We need to go faster,” Aziraphale said. “I'm going to have to carry you."

She allowed him to pick her up in his arms, and moments later Aziraphale started to run. 

Lilly spoke, a hopeful note in her voice. "Can I see your wings please? I've seen Crowley's."

"I'm not supposed to reveal them to humans but now you mention it, we would be faster by wing than by foot." 

He spread his wings wide, and Lilly made an excited sound. "Wow," she cooed, "you have such pretty wings!"

"Thank you," he murmured, "I'm going to take off now. Here we go..."

Aziraphale ran as fast as he could and flapped his wings, making the grass part and the leaves rustle loudly in the trees. He leapt into the air, holding Lilly tightly in his arms.

Lilly giggled as they flew through the trees. “This is super fun,” she said, as Aziraphale darted this way and that to find the widest path, occasionally flying up and over the tree tops. 

Aziraphale took a deep breath. "This friend of yours-"

"Ex-friend. I hate her!"

"How old is she? Is she likely to… do anything else to Crowley?"

"She's eight and a half. I’m seven. I don't think she would hurt him again. I think she feels guilty, deep down, but she still won't let him out of the circle because she thinks he's dangerous. But I don't think he’s dangerous, he's too poorly."

"Crowley is not dangerous, I can assure you. So, it was just the two of you in there with him?”

“Yeah. Are you okay? You look like you’ve been crying. Your eyes are all red. Don’t be scared! I’m sure Crowley will be okay.”

There was a lump in Aziraphale’s throat. He didn’t reply.

"Why are you friends with a demon? Shouldn't you be enemies?"

"It's a very long story."

"I like stories. Tell me."

"Maybe later," Aziraphale said, though he had every intention of erasing her memory as soon as possible.

By the time the building was visible in the distance, Aziraphale's wings were beginning to tire - he didn't exercise them as often as he should – but he ignored the pain, refusing to slow down, desperate to get to Crowley's side.

Aziraphale sensed the two demons outside of the building moments before he heard them talking, and he tried to come to a stop before they noticed him but it was too late.

"I know some humans that will bomb the place if I give the word," said Hastur.

Ligur shrugged. "It'll probably be easier to just set the place on fire."

"Yeah, actually that'd be more fun too, and it might even flush her out. I'd like to get my hands on- Hey, who's there?!"

Aziraphale landed heavily not far from the demons, who were moving towards him. He set Lilly down and then protectively pushed her behind him. He turned towards her. "Stay there, I'll keep you safe."

Aziraphale could sense a human in the building, but he could not sense Crowley. He knew that summoning magic would cloak Crowley's presence if he was in the pentagram and he could sense plenty of magic within the building. 

Hastur stood a few feet away, glaring at him. "What are you doing here? Poking your nose in where it doesn't belong? This is demon business. Bugger off."

"I won't let you hurt the little girl in there."

"That little girl threatened me with holy water, and she's got Crowley in there.” 

“You saw him? He’s alive?” Aziraphale said, trying to hide the hope in his voice, trying to sound indifferent.

“Yeah, he’s alive, but he’s had a rough time so we're going to teach that brat a lesson."

"No, you will not! I'll deal with this. You just want to burn the place down - with your man still inside, no less! Disgusting!"

"Collateral damage,” Ligur snarled. “And he'll get over it, he's been discorperated enough times. What do you care anyway?"

"Angel's never leave a man behind," Aziraphale said, head held high, "But don't you worry, I'll let your man go free."

Hastur grinned like a shark. "Do whatever you want to him. Just know that if you hurt him, or if he dies, that will give me grounds to retaliate, and I really enjoy retaliating." 

Aziraphale hoped that Hastur was threatening him because he thought it would protect Crowley but he strongly suspected that Hastur would relish any excuse to hurt an angel. 

Aziraphale realised that if Crowley did die then Hastur would blame him for it, but this didn't matter because without Crowley life didn't seem worth living anymore anyway. 

He gave Hastur a withering look. "I don't have time for this. Leave. Right now. Both of you."

Hastur laughed. "Whatever. Knock yourself out. By the way, if Crowley tells me you were responsible for this in any way, I'll come after you."

Already marching towards the door, Lilly shielded in front of him, Aziraphale turned and glared back at Hastur. "I do not use children to do my dirty work, you disgusting piece of filth." 

"Of course not, you saintly twat. Watch your back. I’ll see you when the war comes - if not before. "

The two demons stalked off into the trees and were gone.

Lilly took Aziraphale's hand and led him into the building. "This way, Mr angel."

It was dark inside and Aziraphale clicked his fingers, making a ball of warm light shine above them. It followed them as they moved deeper into the abandoned warehouse. The place was derelict and spooky, certainly no place for children to be playing.

“You two have been playing here, unsupervised?” 

"Our parents both think we’re at each other's houses."

Aziraphale sighed.

Lilly looked up at him. "You should keep your wings out to prove that you’re an angel. I don't think she believed Crowley when he told us you were, but I believed him all along! Those demons outside don't know you're friends do they?"

"No, and it needs to stay that way."

"They're through that door," Lilly said excitedly, then she raised her voice. "Mr Crowley! Are you okay? I got someone to help you feel better!"

A young girl's voice shouted back at them. "Lilly? What have you done! Did you bring those demons here?!"

"I'm not a demon! The demons have gone!" Aziraphale cried, trying and failing to keep the panic out of his voice. “Crowley?! Are you there?"

"That's Aziraphale. Let him in!" Crowley yelled. 

Aziraphale felt overjoyed to hear Crowley's voice, glad that he was still well enough to speak even if his voice sounded weak and strained.

"Crowley! I’m here!" Aziraphale shouted back. “Everything is going to be okay!”

Aziraphale waved a hand and the door swung open revealing a terrified girl who stood holding a cup of holy water. She stared at him, eyes darting from one white wing to the other. She gasped, mouth hanging open.

Aziraphale blinked and all of the holy water in the room vanished. 

The girl jumped and then backed away, staring at the angel before her. "I didn't mean to hurt him! I swear! I'm really sorry! I didn’t know he was friends with an actual angel!"

Aziraphale stared at her coldly, then his gaze fell on Crowley and his face crumpled. "Oh! Oh, Crowley! You poor thing! What have they done to you! It’s alright, I’m here."

"I'm sorry!" The girl sobbed, but Aziraphale wasn't listening, his entire world focused on the injured demon before him.

Crowley was sat in the middle of a circle, staring up at him, wrapped in a bright pink blanket and dressed in nothing more than pajama bottoms. His skin was pallid and drenched in sweat. His hair, usually so immaculately styled, was dishevelled and pointing up in all directions. A horrible black tar-like substance coated part of one wing, his left arm and his fingertips. Aziraphale realised with a jolt that it was blistered, dead flesh. Crowley's eyes had lost their shine and seemed to be having trouble focusing on him, but despite it all Crowley was smiling up at him.

"You've no idea how glad I am to see you, angel." 

Aziraphale waved a hand and the candle flames blew out, sending little spirals of smoke into the air. The pale red glow surrounding the circle vanished as the spell broke. 

Aziraphale strode across the room and then stepped into the circle. He knelt down and wrapped his arms around Crowley, pulling him close. Crowley’s good arm went around his shoulder while the other hung limply at his side, then the demon pressed his face against Aziraphale’s neck. 

“My powers won’t work,” Crowley whispered, his voice frail and anxious. “Holy water. But only a little bit.”

“I’m sure they’ll come back,” Aziraphale reassured him, hoping desperately that he was right. 

Gently, Aziraphale pressed his palm to Crowley’s forehead and performed a quick miracle. “Just a little something to help with the pain.” 

Crowley let out a little sigh and relaxed against him. Aziraphale knew this would only stop Crowley from feeling pain, it wouldn’t heal his injuries, but it was a start. 

“I’m going to try to heal your wing first, if that’s alright.” Aziraphale said, unsure if he was even capable of healing a wound caused by holy water.

“Mm-hm,” Crowley murmured drowsily.

Aziraphale hovered his hand over the injured wing, and miraculously, the broken feathers straightened themselves and the missing ones regrew, the wing beneath healed under his touch, though not completely. Under the black feathers, blisters and damaged skin could still be seen. 

“That’s a bit better,” Aziraphale said gently. “You’ll be as good as new before we know it.”

“Thank you.” Crowley’s eyes forced themselves open, revealing golden yellow. His voice held a note of fear. “Hastur and Ligur… they were here.”

“They’ve gone. I informed them that the children are under my protection.” 

But still, Aziraphale felt it best to get out of here as soon as possible. He remembered Hastur casually discussing whether to set the building ablaze or have it bombed and he couldn’t be sure they would entirely give up on their plans.

First, he needed to heal Crowley as much as possible, to make sure his condition didn’t worsen. 

Aziraphale took hold of Crowley’s wrist and gently lifted it before healing the injury on his forearm. He became aware that the children had edged closer and were watching them.

“Is he going to be okay?” Lilly asked.

“Yes, of course. Crowley is going to be just fine, don’t you worry.” 

Aziraphale felt confident as he watched Crowley’s wounds become less raw and angry, but he could not be sure how deep the damage truly went. He hid his worry, not just from the children but from Crowley himself.

Aziraphale glanced at the girls. Despite their youth and the obvious guilt on their small faces he felt a cold rage towards them for what they had done to his dearest friend. “What on Earth possessed you to use such dangerous magic?! To summon a demon?! You could have killed him, you absolute- you silly children!”

“I’m sorry!” the girls sobbed.

“So you should be! Magic is incredibly dangerous!”

The oldest child edged closer to Crowley, looking at the wounds she had inflicted. Her lip quivered. “I’m so sorry, Crowley. I didn’t mean to. I was stupid. It was a stupid mistake.”

Crowley turned his face towards her, still resting against Aziraphale’s shoulder. “We all make mistakes, kid. I’ve made my share.”

“I’m Harriet.”

“Your name is Harriet?”

“Yeah. My parents thought I was going to be a boy, and they planned to call me Harry after Harry Potter, but I was a girl so they named me Harriet. They call me Harry for short.”

Crowley smiled. “That’s a good name. I would never have guessed it.”

Aziraphale carefully took Crowley’s hand in his own and healed his fingertips.

“Do you think you can hide your wings away?” Aziraphale asked. “We need to get you back home.”

“I’ll try,” Crowley said, but after a moment he let out an unhappy noise. “My powers still aren’t working. I can’t do it.”

“I’m sure they'll come back with time. But for now we need to figure out how to get you home, and that will be difficult with your wings out like that. Would it be okay if- Do you mind if try using my own powers to put them away for you?”

“Er… sure, give it a go.”

Aziraphale concentrated hard. He had never done this before for anyone and it felt strangely intimate and invasive. The wings folded down out of sight and Crowley jolted and let out a gasp. 

“Fu- That felt weird.”

“Sorry! Are you alright?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine. You should hide your wings too, angel.”

“Oh yes. Oops.” The white wings vanished in a flash. “Now, let’s get you to your feet, shall we? Come on.”

Aziraphale helped Crowley to stand. He was shaky and leant against him to stay upright. The demon closed his eyes and winced. 

“Are you okay?” Aziraphale asked.

“I’m fine, just a bit dizzy.” Crowley turned his attention to Harriet. “Where’s that blasted book?”

Harriet dashed over to the cardboard box and pulled out the demonology book. She handed it over.

Crowley clutched the book tightly to his chest. “I’m gonna burn this bloody thing.”

“Let’s put it somewhere safe for now,” Aziraphale said, taking the book from him and shoving it into his coat pocket. “Children, grab your things and let’s go.”

Lilly and Harriet grabbed their bags. 

“Can I keep my toys?” Lilly asked hopefully.

“You might as well,” Aziraphale said with a sigh. He hesitated. “Crowley, you didn’t steal these things did you?”

“Created out of raw firmament,” the demon said, then, under his breath added, “mostly.”

Aziraphale pretended he hadn’t heard. 

The blanket around Crowley’s shoulder slipped and Aziraphale caught it, pulling it back into place. He noticed that Crowley was shivering, he felt cold and clammy to the touch.

“You’re freezing, you need some proper clothes. I’ll wish some up for you.”

“Please,” Crowley said. “But no tartan. Or tweed.”

A flick of the wrist and suddenly Crowley was dressed in one of his usual outfits, or at least as close to it as Aziraphale could remember. Aziraphale made sure his injured forearm was uncovered, the sleeves of his shirt and jacket rolled up. 

They started walking, Crowley moving very slowly and leaning heavily upon Aziraphale for support. He almost fell over but Aziraphale caught him. 

“I’d better carry you,” Aziraphale said firmly.

“Carry- No, you bloody well will not!”

“Now, don’t be silly. You’re hurt.”

Aziraphale wouldn’t feel right until they were somewhere safe, where Hastur and Ligur couldn’t find them, and where he could fully concentrate on looking after Crowley. They didn’t have time for bickering. He scooped Crowley up into his arms.

“Put me down! I’m not a bloody damsel in distress!”

“You’re a demon in distress. Please, stop making such a fuss.”

Crowley growled his disapproval but Aziraphale noticed that he still wrapped his arms around his neck.

They walked out into the rest of the building, making their way through large empty rooms. 

Crowley glanced around with interest, then looked up at Aziraphale. “If Hastur and Ligur see you carrying me like this, you’ll have some explaining to do.” 

“Oh, they’re long gone. I can’t sense their presence.” 

Aziraphale had been reaching out with his mind at regular intervals, looking for supernatural beings nearby. There was nobody in at least a mile-wide radius.

“You’d better be right. My powers are shot. I can’t sense anything, I can’t even sense your angel-y-ness.” 

They walked out of the building and into the trees, the children following closely behind. By the time they reached the edge of the woods, Crowley had drifted off to sleep in Aziraphale’s arms, head resting against the angel’s chest. He was snoring quietly. He woke up as they entered a car park. Beyond that, traffic zoomed past on a busy road.

After Crowley very loudly insisted on being put down, Aziraphale helped him to stand. 

Crowley held Aziraphale’s arm for support and peered with interest at the nearby road. He saw a road sign and his face lit up. “That road leads to the M1! We can make our way back to London. No problem. All we have to do is follow the signs.” 

“Right,” said Aziraphale, glancing around the car park. “I guess I’ll have to commandeer one of these automobiles.”

“Steal a car?” Crowley said with some amusement.

“No. Borrow. I’m going to borrow it. I’ll give it back – and I’ll make sure I leave it in tiptop condition with plenty of petrol and oil and all that sort of thing.”

“I’ll drive.” 

Aziraphale shook his head. “No, you will not. You’re injured! You would probably pass out at the wheel.”

“Do you even know how to drive?”

“If you can do it, I'm sure it can’t be that hard.”

Crowley stared at him. “Those words are definitely going to come back to bite you in the arse.” 

Aziraphale scowled. “Anyway, I’ll just use my divine powers to move the car around. Easy peasy.”

“Famous last words.”

Aziraphale walked up to a nearby car. “Let’s have this one. It’s a delightful shade of blue.”

“Are you seriously choosing a car based purely on the colour?” 

“No,” Aziraphale lied. “It’s got nice… wheels.” He gave a wheel an experimental kick like he’d seen on television. “Yes, these are very good wheels.”

Crowley rolled his eyes.

The doors opened with a miracle and Aziraphale helped Crowley get into the front passenger’s seat. Aziraphale turned to the children and gestured to the back seat. “Hop in! I’ll get you home, safe and sound.”

Harriet looked at the car with suspicion. “I’m not supposed to get into cars with strangers. And we only live around the corner anyway. We’ll walk.”

“Normally, I would agree with your stranger-danger thinking, but I’m an angel, and there are two demons out there somewhere. I’d rather see you home safe.”

“But there’s a demon in there,” Harriet said, pointing at the car. 

“Yes, but he’s not evil.”

“How dare you!” Crowley screeched from the car.

“-currently. Because he doesn’t have his powers. He’s very wicked most of the time.” Aziraphale knelt down closer to the children and lowered his voice. “Crowley is a sweetie. Please, let me drive you home.”

Harriet still seemed unsure, but Lilly was already climbing into the car and talking animatedly to Crowley about how Aziraphale had travelled through the phone to get to them.

"Huh, that's a clever idea, I'll remember that one," Crowley said with fascination.

Harriet walked with Aziraphale and climbed into the seat behind him.

Aziraphale wished the car into moving and it rolled across the carpark before joining traffic on the main road. He felt pleased with himself, although the constant horn beeping from the other cars was rather disconcerting.

“Speed up," Crowley said. "You’re going too slow." 

“I’m going as fast as I feel comfortable.”

“You’re doing twenty miles-an-hour in a sixty speed limit. That’s actually illegal.”

Several cars overtook them, honking. A man gave them a rude hand gesture and Aziraphale glared at the car as it zoomed away.

Crowley grinned. “I’m proud of you. Causing road rage is the sort of thing I’d do.”

“Oh, do be quiet!” Aziraphale snapped.

Harriet pointed out of the window. “Go down that road there, Mr angel.”

Aziraphale slowed the car down and turned down the street while other cars honked angrily all around him.

“For goodness sake, what are they all honking about?” Aziraphale muttered to himself, starting to feel quite annoyed.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Crowley said, “maybe the fact that you just pulled across two lanes of traffic without indicating or even looking in your mirrors.”

“Mirrors?” 

“You’re going to get us killed.”

Aziraphale huffed.

“There’s my house!” Lilly cried. 

“And there’s mine,” said Harriet.

“Oh, you’re next door neighbours, how lovely.” 

Aziraphale brought the car to a halt outside of their houses. 

Harriet nibbled at her fingernails. “Wh- what if that horrible demon comes after me? I threatened him. He must be so mad.” 

Aziraphale turned in his seat to face her. “I will not let anyone come after you. I’ll use my divine gifts to protect both of you from evil. Look at me, my dears.”

He clicked his fingers and they both stared at him gormlessly, suddenly in a trance. Of course, he would cast a quick charm to protect them, but he had truly needed their attention in order to hypnotise them.

“Right. Now then, when I give the word, you will forget finding that book and summoning Crowley, and you will forget about us and those two awful demons and everything that occurred. You have spent the last two days playing whatever games you like best. And you will stop playing in spooky woods and abandoned buildings!”

“Where did you even find that book?” Crowley asked. 

Harriet spoke in a monotone voice. “It was in a box of my Great Grandad’s things. My mum threw it in the bin because she said it was creepy and stupid, but I fished it out later.”

“Were there any more books like that?”

“The only other books were War and Pieces, and Dante’s Volcano.”

Aziraphale’s eyes lit up. “Oh, I wonder if they’re originals-” 

“Mum threw them away too because they looked really tatty.”

Aziraphale clung to hope. “Did you save those too?”

“Nah, they looked rubbish. It was two weeks ago, so they’ll be long gone by now.”

Aziraphale grimaced.

“Have your parents noticed you have lots of new stuff?” asked Crowley.

The children shook their heads. 

“We kept it a secret and hid all the toys in the back of our wardrobes,” said Lilly.

“Right. Okay. Let’s say you won all the things in a competition,” Crowley said.

“Oh yes!” Aziraphale waved a hand and two letters in envelopes appeared. He handed them to the children. “These are your winning letters to show to your parents. They’ll miraculously believe whatever it says without a second thought. Now, you will both get out of the car and walk to your respective houses, snapping out of this trance the second you walk in the front door. Goodbye, you ridiculous children.”

The children walked away.

Crowley looked emotional as he watched them go, like a mother bird watching her chicks leave the nest. He turned towards Aziraphale. “I’ll drive us home, otherwise you’ll just get us discorporated with your terrible driving. I’m feeling better now so I’m sure I can do it, no problem.”

“You can’t drive without your powers.”

“Of course I can. I only use my powers to move obstacles out of the way and improve the Bentley’s capabilities. I know how to drive.”

Aziraphale gave him a doubtful look but he relented. He had not enjoyed driving and felt relieved when they swapped positions, feeling much more at home in the passenger’s seat.

Crowley stalled the car three times before he got it to move, at which point he almost crashed into a lamppost, only avoiding this because Aziraphale brought the car to a halt with a miracle. 

"It drives differently to the Bentley," Crowley said defensively as they swapped back to their original seating.

The drive home was pleasant enough, with Crowley giving him helpful driving tips and instructions, but he did wish he would stop clutching his seat nervously and making such panicked screams every now and then, it was rather off-putting.

Aziraphale parked up outside of his bookshop. "Home, sweet home," he said cheerfully as he unfastened his seat belt.

"Aziraphale, please never drive again." 

Aziraphale frowned while Crowley fiddled with the car radio. 

"I need to contact Hell, let them know I'm okay. Give me a second..."

Aziraphale nodded, keeping quiet in readiness.

Crowley made a frustrated sound. "I can't contact them without my powers! It won't work! How am I supposed to- Shut up, bloody Freddie Mercury! If there could just be one car in the world that played something other than Queen-"

He was interrupted by a demonic voice coming through the radio. 

CROWLEY?

"Oh! Hi, Dagon!"

AH GOOD. I'VE FINALLY FOUND YOU! YOU'RE ALIVE THEN?

"Yeah."

EXCELLENT. I'VE JUST SPOKEN WITH HASTUR AND LIGUR. YOU WERE KIDNAPPED BY CHILDREN? 

"No. Well. I was summoned. Summoning magic."

DID THAT ANGEL KNOCK YOU ABOUT AT ALL? HASTUR IS VERY EAGER TO EXACT REVENGE.

"Nononono! He didn't. Kids present, you know? He wouldn't want to set a bad example."

I'LL TELL HASTUR TO CALM THE FUCK DOWN THEN. BUT IT'LL BE THE BIG BATTLE SOON ENOUGH, EH? THEN WE'LL BE ABLE TO GIVE THOSE ANGELS WHAT FOR.

"Yeah."

AND I'LL REMIND HASTUR THAT YOU'VE ALREADY CALLED FIRST DIBS ON AZIRAPHALE. ARCH-NEMESIS AND ALL THAT. 

"Cheers," said Crowley, shrinking in his chair and refusing to look Aziraphale in the eye.

Aziraphale smiled.

"So. er... What made you guys realise I was missing?" 

YOU DIDN'T SHOW UP FOR THAT MEETING YOU WERE SO EXCITED ABOUT. SOMETHING TO DO WITH EVIL BOXES?

"Loot crates. One of my most cunning ideas yet."

Aziraphale didn't know what loot crates were and he wondered vaguely if Crowley was just taking the credit for them.

WHEN WE COULDN'T SENSE YOUR PRESENCE ON EARTH, WE FIGURED YOU WERE EITHER DEAD OR STUCK IN SOME SUMMONING RITUAL SOMEWHERE.

"Ah. Great work! You could give Sherlock Holmes a run for his money!"

WHO?

"Sher- He's a detective."

OH. RIGHT.

The demon seemed distracted.

NO, HE'S- HASTUR, HE'S FINE! AZIRAPHALE DIDN'T DO ANYTHING- PUT DOWN THE ENCHANTED BLADES! I DON'T CARE. GO TORTURE SOME LOST SOULS OR SOMETHING. YES. NOW GIVE- GIVE THEM HERE. THANK YOU. NOW FUCK OFF. SORRY, CROWLEY. WHERE WAS I? OH YES. DO YOU NEED ANY ASSISTANCE? WE CAN SEND SOMEONE IF-

"No! No! I'm fine thanks! Never better."

OKAY. NOW THEN... I'VE RESCHEDULED YOUR MEETING FOR SUNDAY. 2PM. DON'T BE LATE.

"Thanks! Chow!"

BYE.

The music started up again and Crowley let out a heavy sigh.

“Shouldn’t you have mentioned that your powers are not working?” Aziraphale said.

“Are you kidding me? No! Any sign of weakness is suicide down there.”

Crowley let out a worried noise and ran his fingers through his hair. He flinched slightly, and Aziraphale knew that his fingertips must still be sore. 

Aziraphale looked at his forearm and felt hopeful. “Your arm is looking much better! Even better than it looked straight after I healed it. I think your powers are still there, they’re just concentrating on healing you. That must be why you can’t use your occult magic right now.”

Crowley seemed to cheer up a bit. “Yeah, I bet that’s it.”

“I- um. What you said to that demon earlier- I have a similar arrangement with my lot. They are to leave you to me. What with you being my greatest adversary. Michael has much the same thing with Ligur, though I can’t imagine why.”

“Yeah, Ligur has dibs on Michael too. And Beelzebub with Gabriel. Funny, huh?”

Aziraphale got out of the car and rushed around to assist Crowley. “Wouldn’t it be lovely if everyone was secretly friends like us?” Aziraphale said, taking Crowley’s arm and walking with him to the front door of his bookshop. “Imagine if – when the war comes – everyone just hugs, and makes up and forgets the whole thing.”

“Somehow, I can’t see that happening. I can’t imagine Beelzebub hugging anyone.”

Aziraphale deflated.

An outraged cry escaped Crowley. “The buttons of my jacket are tartan!”

Aziraphale kept his face carefully innocent. “Are they? Entirely unintentional.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure. Unintentional, of course,” Crowley replied furiously. “I told you - no tartan!”

Aziraphale smiled, wondering how long it would take him to notice that his socks were both tartan and tweed.

They entered the shop and made their way into the back room. Crowley sat down on the sofa, looking exhausted.

“Feel free to have a nap. You look worn out.”

“Ravenous is what I am. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so hungry in my entire existence.”

“Shall I order from that Indian place? And I’ve got some biscuits in the kitchen to tide you over in the meantime.”

“Please.”

By the time the food arrived – miraculously fast - Crowley had managed to devour almost an entire tin of shortbread biscuits. He made it most of the way through his meal before falling asleep. Aziraphale carefully pried the bowl he was still holding out of his hands and placed it on the table, then he covered his friend with a tartan blanket.

Aziraphale settled down in his armchair with a book and a cup of tea.

***


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter! Thanks for sticking with this right to the end!
> 
> Once again, a big thank you to everyone that commented. You all made me very happy. :)

***

Crowley opened his eyes. 

He was curled up on Aziraphale’s sofa, wrapped in a warm blanket.

The overwhelming exhaustion that had caused him to drift off had vanished, and while he still felt sleepy he also felt much more alert and bright. 

He still had that wonderful, relaxed feeling that had come with Aziraphale’s healing power, and his pain had dulled to the point of being almost non-existent. Without the discolouration on his arm and fingertips he might have thought it were all just a dream.

He wanted to inspect his wings but when he tried to summon them forth nothing happened. Reaching out with his mind, he tried to move a glass of water on the coffee table closer to himself but failed again. He was dismayed that his powers were still not working.

Aziraphale gave him a reassuring smile from his armchair and put his book down onto his lap. "How are you feeling, my dear?"

Crowley leant forward and grabbed the glass of water. "A bit better, but my powers are still broken."

"I'm sure they will return soon enough once you’re fully healed. And you do look much better. Your arm has improved greatly while you were asleep."

Crowley nodded, feeling reassured. "So long as my powers are back in time for that meeting - Dagon will be furious if I have to reschedule again. It’s on Sunday so I’ve still got almost a week. Let’s hope it doesn’t take that long. Wait. How long was I asleep?"

"About twelve hours. Feel free to go back to sleep if you wish."

"Nah, I feel pretty awake now. Maybe I could read for a bit too."

Aziraphale looked delighted. “Oh! I’m sure I can recommend something to you! Let me see...”

“Actually, I- er, the kids lent me a book series to read and I got quite into it…” Crowley could feel his cheeks reddening as he awaited the bibliophiles response. “Could you miracle up some Harry Potter for me?”

“I can do one better.” 

Aziraphale walked over to a shelf and picked up a boxed set of books. He handed them over.

Crowley stared at the collection in his hands. “You own them? Wait, the covers are different to the ones I gave Lilly.”

Aziraphale beamed. “These are limited edition! For collectors! And I’ve also got a Hardcover first edition of Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone - it’s a first printing and it’s credited to Joanne Rowling, rather than the usual ‘JK.’ Only 500 were ever published - It’s worth an absolute fortune! I have it locked away!"

Crowley smiled, amused by Aziraphale's enthusiasm.

“So please be careful not to bend the spines.”

Crowley nodded. “I’ll be careful. Thank you, angel. Have you read them?”

“No, I don’t think they would be quite my cup of tea.”

“Muggle.”

“Pardon?” Aziraphale frowned. “I can’t keep up with your new-fangled insults.”

“What are you reading anyway?” Crowley asked, gesturing at the book on Aziraphale’s lap.

“Nothing! Just some light reading.” 

Crowley stared at him. Aziraphale wouldn’t meet his eye. “Bloody Hell, it’s the demon summoning book, isn’t it?! Destroy it!”

“I can’t! It’s very rare! I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s fascinating what the human’s know about demons and magic.”

“Fascinating? Fascinating?! I was trapped for two days! I almost died!”

“I know, and I’m very sorry that happened to you. I’ll keep the book safe here to make sure it never happens again.”

“Safe? Here? What if you accidently sell it to a human?!”

“I would never! I’ll keep it safe, I promise. I’ll lock it away.”

“No, you have to destroy it.”

“Please be reasonable,” Aziraphale begged. 

“You be reasonable! What if the other angels find it? Gabriel? Sandalaphon? And learn how easy it is to hold a demon hostage and strip them of their powers? That book is dangerous! I’m usually the only demon on Earth so it’s almost always me that ends up getting summoned!” 

Aziraphale looked ashamed. “I- Yes. You’re right, it's too dangerous. I’m sorry." He had been clutching the book to his chest but now he lowered it and stared at it forlornly. He looked up at Crowley and his face hardened with resolve. “I’ll destroy it. Fire, I think, would be the best way. Let's step out back, we can burn it outside together.” 

They made their way across the little kitchenette and then stepped out through the back door into the early morning sun.

It could never really be described as a garden, it was more of a courtyard. The bins were in one corner and an old statue of an angel stood proudly in another. There was no grass, just paving slabs, and the only green in the small place came from some ivy which was crawling along a wall, across the patio and was steadily making its way up the statue's legs. 

Crowley followed Aziraphale across to the statue, which was holding a basin that he guessed was supposed to act as a bird bath, but it was bone-dry. 

Aziraphale ripped a handful of pages from the book, scrunched them up and then placed them into the basin. "We can burn them here."

"Good idea. Can I-?" Crowley held out his hand and Aziraphale surrendered the book to him. He relished ripping out the pages and throwing them into the dish. Once he was finished, he raised a hand in a quick gesture, intending to set the papers on fire, forgetting for a moment that he couldn’t use magic. "Bugger. Er. Would you mind doing the honours?"

"Oh. Yes. Sorry. Of course." Aziraphale clicked his fingers and the ripped-up book burst into flames. 

Crowley felt better as he watched the pages burn. They stayed outside until the flames died away and there was nothing left but ash. 

Back inside, Crowley returned to the sofa while Aziraphale made them some coffee. When Aziraphale returned, he also brought with him two slices of Battenberg cake. 

Crowley glanced up from The Prisoner of Azkaban, which he has almost finished. "Thanks, angel." 

Aziraphale sat beside him on the sofa. “I watched that detective show you were telling me about. It was very good! I can’t believe the gardener was the murderer all along! What a twist!”

“Bloody Hell, Aziraphale! I haven’t seen the ending of that yet. I got spirited away just before the detective was about to reveal the murderer.”

“Oh. Sorry,” Aziraphale said guiltily. “I thought you’d finished it.” He glanced at the book in Crowley’s hands. "How many books in are you?" 

"The third of seven. No spoilers, angel!"

"Of course not, dear boy. I was just thinking. Now that you've wickedly tempted me into destroying that book I need something else to read. I've been wondering what all the fuss was about with these Harry Potter books.” 

Crowley enthusiastically pushed the first novel into his hands. 

Aziraphale looked at the book thoughtfully before placing it in front of him on the coffee table.

"Is it alright if I check on your wings first?" Aziraphale asked.

Crowley hesitated. "Er. Yeah. Sure. I'll, um, take off my jacket and shirt first."

"If you'd rather I didn't-"

"No, no. It's fine," Crowley said, taking off his jacket. "I want to see how they're doing too. I can't wish for them myself, so... Just let me know when you're about to do it."

He didn't know why he felt so awkward all of a sudden. It was only Aziraphale. But it felt so intimate and personal having him reach in with his mind to pull out his wings like that. And also, when he did it the last time, it had felt nice, although he'd been too exhausted to fully appreciate it.

Crowley took off his shirt. "There. Go ahead."

"Did it hurt when I did it before?" Aziraphale asked worriedly.

"No, no. Not at all. It just made me jump."

Aziraphale nodded. "Alright, here I go."

Crowley felt his wings being gently pulled into the open. It felt like being caressed, and knowing it was Aziraphale doing it gave him a little jolt of pleasure. His body stirred and he felt his cheeks heat up. Aziraphale didn't seem to notice. He had moved closer on the sofa and was inspecting his damaged wing.

"Oh, it's looking much better, you can barely even tell there was an injury there at all."

"Yeah," Crowley said distractedly. Aziraphale was touching his feathers. He carefully smoothed them down before wrapped his fingers about his wrist to get a better look at the discoloured skin on his forearm. 

Crowley felt flustered. He was hyper aware of how naked he was from the waist up and how close Aziraphale was. He could ask Aziraphale to stop touching him, but he liked it when the angel got a bit touchy-feely with him and he hated the idea of discouraging it. He knew that the angel didn’t mean anything by it. Nothing would ever come of this.

"Yes. Much better,” said Aziraphale, “You'd hardly even know it had happened."

Crowley opened his mouth, intending to say that he was certainly aware it had happened, especially with his lack of magic as a constant reminder, but then Aziraphale's grip tightened on his arm and Crowley looked up into his face and saw tears in his eyes. 

Aziraphale’s lip quivered.

"Angel?"

“I- I thought you were going to die. When that girl told me about the holy water.”

“So did I. I thought I was a goner.” 

Aziraphale pulled him into a hug and held him close. “I was so scared. I don’t know what I would have done if-” Aziraphale cut himself off, his voice shaking.

Crowley wrapped his arms around him. “I’m still here. You can’t get rid of me that easily.” 

“I’m so glad you're here with me.” 

“That’s good, because I’m planning on staying right here in this shop with you, and maybe even getting you to wait on me hand and foot. At least until my powers-” Aziraphale kissed him on the forehead, and for a moment Crowley forgot how to speak. “My powers- Er, come back.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t,” he said quickly, “You really didn’t. It was nice. Er…”

“Nice?”

“Well…”

Aziraphale kissed his cheek. “Was that okay?”

What the bloody hell was happening? 

“Yeah?” Crowley said, voice higher than he had intended.

Another kiss, and another, on the corner of his mouth this time. He sat there, frozen in disbelief as Aziraphale kissed him on the mouth.

Aziraphale pulled back and gave him a nervous little smile. 

Crowley immediately moved forward and pressed their lips together again. Aziraphale made a breathy sound and kissed him back.

Perhaps he really had been killed by that holy water and was currently in some sort of afterlife. Could that be what was going on? A Paradise for demons, where everything you have ever wanted came true? 

Crowley parted his lips and their tongues pressed together. Fingers were rubbing little circles at the small of his back, and he found himself letting out an involuntary moan. He couldn’t believe this was happening. He didn’t think Aziraphale would ever want this with him. He felt so happy, and so overwhelmed, and so aroused. It felt as though the world were shifting and rearranging itself all around him and it was all too much for him suddenly. So much had happened to him in only a few short days.

A large number of books suddenly threw themselves from the nearby shelves, crashing loudly to the floor. The lights flickered and then shone bright before going out, the bulbs blowing.

Crowley and Aziraphale jumped and pulled apart. They glanced around at the scattered books in confused alarm.

Aziraphale looked at him, eyes wide with shock. “Did- Did you do that?”

Crowley realised that he had. “I’m sorry!” He looked at the books on the floor, pages bent and creased, and he felt so guilty for damaging Aziraphale’s precious books that he didn’t immediately grasp what this meant.

Aziraphale looked overjoyed. “Oh, my darling! Your powers are back! I’m so relieved!”

“What- Oh!” He was still reeling from being referred to as ‘my darling’. He waved a hand towards the lights and the bulbs fixed themselves and lit up again. “About bloody time my powers were back!” He gestured at the fallen books and they tidied themselves up before flying back to their respective shelves. “So sorry about your books. I didn’t mean to.”

“I know you didn’t, my dear, no need to apologise. I’m just so happy your powers are working again.”

“Yeah, me too." Crowley tucked his wings away out of sight, happy to be able to use his magic once again.

They smiled at each other. 

There was a brief moment in which Crowley feared that Aziraphale was going to pretend that nothing had happened between them, that the kiss had never taken place.

"I love you so much," Aziraphale said.

Crowley stared at him, astonished. "I- I love you too."

Aziraphale smiled. He touched Crowley's face, his fingers stroking along his jaw, and then he started to play with his hair. Crowley leant forward and pressed their lips together again, his heart racing.

The kiss deepened and Aziraphale's hands dropped to Crowley's waist, his thumbs running little circles over bare skin. 

It felt wonderful, having Aziraphale’s touch him like this. Crowley pushed a hand up under Aziraphale's waistcoat, trying to get inside of his shirt, frustrated that it was tucked in. 

Aziraphale deftly unbuttoned and shrugged out of his waistcoat, an invitation to take things further, to undress him. 

Hands shaking slightly, Crowley pulled at Aziraphale's bowtie and then his shirt, until Aziraphale was just as naked from the waist up as he was himself. Crowley wasted no time in exploring his body, caressing his chest, his stomach, while he kissed his neck, making the angel gasp and moan. He savoured all of it, wanting to memorise every part of him, every sound he made.

It felt so good, to touch him and to be touched in return. It felt too good to be true, and Crowley started to doubt himself. This was all happening so fast. 

He shifted so that he could look Aziraphale in the eyes. But, oh, he looked so beautiful like this, face flushed with desire, eyes half-lidded, lips parted, and it took a moment for him to focus and get out what he needed to say.

"Are- are you sure you want to do this? I don't want you to regret it."

"I won't. I could never regret it. I don't want to resist you anymore. I don't want to pretend any longer that you don't mean the world to me, because you do. And it shouldn't have taken your being hurt to make me finally admit it to you, and to myself."

"It's okay, angel. It’s okay." 

He knew how desperately Aziraphale wanted to fit in with his own people, but he wasn't like the other angels. He was too kind, too good, he wasn't cold and heartless like them. Crowley didn't deserve him, but neither did they. He wanted his angel to be happy, he wanted to be the one to make him happy.

They were kissing and pawing at each other desperately. Aziraphale pinned Crowley beneath him on the sofa, their hips pushing together.

Aziraphale unfastened Crowley's belt and trousers, pulled them down along with his underwear even as he pulled his own clothing downwards. Crowley gasped, overcome with excitement and arousal as their cocks slid together, amazed that this was really happening. 

Aziraphale reached between them and took hold of both of their cocks in his hand, stroking them together.

Crowley whimpered as the pleasure built up inside of him, until, suddenly, he was tipping over the edge, cumming into Aziraphale's hand and across his own stomach. He was trembling as Aziraphale continued to stroke him, as Aziraphale's cock rubbed against him in hungry little pushes. 

Aziraphale moaned as he spilt himself across Crowley's stomach.

They lay there together, both of them breathless. Crowley wrapped his arms around the angel laying on top of him and let out a satisfied sigh. He kissed him, over and over again, feeling closer to him than he had ever dared to hope.

Aziraphale sat up, his eyes drifting with admiration over Crowley's naked and sticky body. He looked rather pleased with himself as he reached towards the table, picked up his drink and took a sip. 

Crowley felt utterly and wonderfully debauched. He sat up and waved a hand, wishing away the mess across his stomach as well as cleaning up Aziraphale. 

"Oh!" Aziraphale said, jumping slightly as the dampness vanished from his body. “Thank you, my dear. Though it is a shame when you look so wickedly dishevelled all messy like that. I rather enjoyed the view." He quirked his lip.

Crowley felt his face heat up. He has never heard Aziraphale speak like that. He liked it. "My apologies, angel. Feel free to paint me like that whenever you like."

For an awful moment he thought he was being presumptuous, assuming Aziraphale would want to do it again. Perhaps the angel would be too scared of Heaven finding out. Perhaps this had been a one-time thing.

"Oh, yes. I'll certainly take you up on that," Aziraphale said with a smile. 

Crowley grinned, feeling happier than ever before. 

Aziraphale gave him a kiss and then handed him his coffee. 

Crowley took a sip. It had cooled nicely, but he set it down again in order to pull up his trousers and underwear.

Slowly, lazily, Aziraphale fastened up his own trousers.

They snuggled up in each other’s arms, eating their cake and drinking their coffee. Then they started to read their books. 

They sat together on the sofa like that for hours, mostly in silence, save for the odd comment from Aziraphale about how dangerous this magic school was, but he seemed equally transfixed.

A gasp escaped Aziraphale and he stared out of the window. “Oh no! I still have that car I borrowed! I hope the owner hasn’t noticed it’s missing yet. I do feel terrible, but we didn’t have a choice.”

Crowley followed Aziraphale’s gaze and through the window he could see the blue car they had taken. He clicked his fingers and it vanished. “There. I’ve sent it back.”

“Oh, thank you! I do hope you topped up the petrol.”

Crowley looked guilty.

Aziraphale sighed. “You drained it, didn’t you.”

“I am a demon,” Crowley argued. “It’s my job to anger and frustrate humans.”

The angel gave him a look which suggested that it wasn’t only humans that he frustrated.

“Fine. Fine.” Crowley waved a hand in a dramatic flourish. “Full tank. Happy?” 

Aziraphale beamed. “Thank you, my darling.” He gave him a kiss. “I’m very happy indeed.”

***


End file.
